Spring Cleaning Confession

Reflective dusting

Please forgive me for I have

not washed the one-way windows or

vacuumed up my petty crimes or

rinsed off all the hard winter stains

on a dirty daily sink stacked with

unhappy customers waiting for my

repentant service when all I really want

to do is wipe that smug smile off your

face as you run a gloved finger along the

line of condemnation that rests just above

my conscience where I can’t see it but I

know it’s there and you can kiss my cold

leftovers because I’m not sorry at all.

NaPoWriMo #21

*This is my attempt at today’s writing prompt on the NaPoWriMo website assigning us to write a “New York School” poem based on this recipe. My subject matter probably didn’t get too close but at least you know what state my house is in while writing a poem every day.

I’m writing a poem every day in April as part of NaPoWriMo’s celebration of National Poetry Month. Won’t you join me in poetry?

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8 thoughts on “Spring Cleaning Confession

  1. I do love the way this segues from form to feeling, from appearance to reality. I also admired the meld of cleaning and conscience.

    And of course I cheered your response to that gloved finger.

    1. The gloved finger of my youth, or rather my mother’s when she was young and her in-laws came for the inspection. I was thinking about your wonderful “Cleaning Lady” poem when I wrote this.

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